Luck of the Devil

by March, Meghan

  “Sleep, Ace. We got this.”

  65

  Forge

  I’ve felt pride before. Like when I caught my first fish, and Isaac ruffled my hair and taught me how to clean and fry the fish for dinner. Or when I made my first purchase of a cargo ship, and Isaac beamed with approval. When my assets hit the billion-dollar mark, and I knew he’d be smiling down on me from above for being a good steward of his legacy.

  But I’ve never felt pride like I do right now, watching Indy sweep her first game with the notorious Chen Yang at the table. The man’s placid features stiffen with each hand, as he realizes there’s nothing he can do to stop her. She’s a beast. Cunning, yet brilliant in her strategy for betting and goading him, while handling the rest of the players at the table like they barely exist on her radar.

  It’s a master class in poker, and the crowd around the table has grown to the point where people are shoving to get a better look at Indy. Her dress, a bold purple satin number, is more suited for evening, but she wears it like royalty.

  When the game ends, the other players at the table rise and clap—all but Yang. He hangs his head in shame, a feeling he’s probably not accustomed to dealing with.

  Indy waves at the people watching, collects her chips, and steps away. Goliath is at her side instantly to take the trays, and she hands them off without a question as she scans the crowd for me. As soon as she sees me, standing just off to the side of the crowd where I could get a better view, the most dazzling smile stretches across her lips as she runs toward me, not missing a single step in her tall heels.

  She launches herself at me. “I won! Against Chen!”

  Joy, like I’ve never felt before, fills my entire being as I catch her with open arms, lifting her into the air.

  “You didn’t just win, you schooled the poor bastard so badly, he may never show his face again.”

  Indy lets out a squeal as I spin her around and carry her away from the encroaching crowd. Donnigan and Goliath keep them at a distance as we steal away to a corner.

  I put Indy on her feet, and she bounces like a kid at Christmas.

  “I can’t fucking believe that just happened. First game.”

  “You made a hell of a splash.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard for the last few hours as Indy destroyed Yang.

  “I was torn. I could let him win, and stay a sleeper player, but too many people in this room already know me and my reputation. They’ve probably studied me like I’m studying them.”

  “So you said fuck it and crushed him?”

  “Yes, and it felt incredible.” She leans up and presses a kiss to my lips. “Thank you for making that possible.”

  I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to Indy kissing me without being asked, but I vow in that moment that I’ll never take it for granted.

  “It was all you, Ace.” I wrap an arm around her waist. “Let’s get some food and water in you, and get you back down to play the next game.”

  * * *

  The morning sets the tone for the rest of the day. Indy wins soundly at every table. She takes out one more favorite and wipes away plenty of mid-list hopefuls. No one in the room can tear their eyes off her, least of all me.

  When the last card has finally been dealt, I sweep in to get her chips and hand them off to Goliath.

  “You’re about to be swamped with people who want to talk to you, and that’s not what you need right now.” I whisper it against her ear, picking up the subtle hint of citrus from her hair.

  Her posture started to droop in the last game, and I know the daylong event has taken a toll on her, even if no one else would notice.

  “Oh God, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I’m talked out. My brain is mush.”

  I jerk my head at Goliath, and he and Donnigan form a protective barrier around us. “Then we’ll get you to the room, and you can chill out in the tub.”

  “But I need to study too.”

  “You chill in the tub, and I’ll help.”

  Instead of replying, she thanks me with another kiss that I add to my tally.

  66

  India

  When Bates opens the door to the penthouse, the scent of food makes my stomach rumble. Even though Forge has kept me fed and hydrated all day, the last game seemed endless. I’ve been dying for some quiet, and for my hands to be empty of cards and chips.

  Forge pauses at the doorway, giving orders to the men before closing the door behind him.

  I’ve already fallen on dinner like a ravenous beast, and I can’t bring myself to care. Across the table from my heaping plate of pasta, Forge cuts into his steak with a grin. Obviously, he doesn’t mind either.

  “Oh, damn, this is good.” Fresh veggies keep it light and crisp, but the sauce coating the chicken and noodles is delicious. I fork up another bite as I swallow.

  “I ordered you two desserts. I wasn’t sure if you were a chocolate fan. You picked berry ice cream when we went out with Holly and Karas, so I hedged my bets,” he says before popping a piece of steak into his mouth.

  “Dessert too? I just might keep you around, Forge.” I toss out the comment like it’s a joke, but it’s not.

  If this version of the man is anywhere close to his true self, I could get used to it. To him. To feeling like I matter. Like he values me and sees me for who I am and appreciates it.

  I’m afraid to get caught up in all the feelings swirling around in my brain now, and instead, want to continue riding the high from my day of winning. I’m afraid that if I get too attached to this Forge, he’ll disappear again when things aren’t fun and games anymore.

  I’m going to soak this up like it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

  Forge pauses, his silverware still over his plate. He’s staring at me like he wants to say something, but his lips don’t move.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  “No. Nothing. I’m proud of you, Indy. Proud as hell.”

  The words I didn’t expect to hear come out in a smooth, genuine tone. They unleash a burning sensation in my eyes that I know foretells tears, and I blink a few times to keep them back.

  When is the last time anyone but Alanna or Summer said they were proud of me? Never.

  “I’ve had more fun in the last eighteen hours than I can remember having in years. Thank you for that. For showing me that there’s more to life than my island and my boats and my business.”

  “Ships.” I correct him like he did when speaking with Karas, and shoot him a wink to prevent my tears from falling. “And really?”

  He lowers his silverware to the plate, and his hands grip the edge of the table. “I never planned on getting married, but I think that’s because I never knew a woman like you existed. You’re a once-in-a-lifetime find, India. I’m proud to be your husband.”

  Shit. The tears come, even though I don’t want them to. I drop my fork to lift my napkin to my face to wipe them away.

  “I didn’t mean to—” He reaches for his napkin to offer it to me.

  I wave him off before he can apologize. “It’s not you. I just . . . I guess it’s been a long, tough day, and my tear ducts decided they needed a workout too.” I dab the tears away and lower the napkin.

  “The last thing I ever want to do is make you cry. Whatever you believe about me, know that’s a fact.”

  Once my tears are dry, I lay the napkin back on my lap. “I know that much. I may not have figured you out yet, but I do know that.”

  67

  India

  I walk into the final day of the grand prix wearing a gold mermaid-style dress from Sofia Russo that fits me like a second skin.

  I may as well have a target on my back because everyone is watching me. My tactics have always relied on flying below the radar—because most male poker players tend to discount women—and if that failed, on distraction.

  For this tournament, however, my tactics have changed. I feel like a wrecking ball instead, smashing through everything in my way, except more
gracefully and better dressed.

  Assignments are announced and Forge follows me to my table, with Donnigan and Goliath on either side of us. Wherever we go, people watch.

  Before Forge, it would have driven me crazy, but now, I barely care.

  We stayed up until two a.m., going over the remaining players and all their tells, and anything else that can help me today. I’m working very hard to keep my expectations low and my ego in check, which is hard after such big wins yesterday.

  The table for the finals is set up in another room, and I’m going to earn my seat at it today. I rest my hands on the chair back that I’m going to take first, but when I close my eyes, I’m already visualizing standing up a winner and moving on to the next round. It’s a little trick I learned years ago, and I was so flustered the night at La Reina, I forgot to do it . . . and I lost.

  “Kick ass, Ace. You got this.” Forge leans in to kiss my cheek, and I turn to give him my mouth instead.

  Maybe I didn’t lose that night at all. Maybe fate took charge and sent me down a new path. One that includes this man, who I’m no longer quite so scared to fall in love with. Maybe . . . maybe this can actually work.

  When Forge pulls back, he has a smudge of red on his lips, and I reach up to wipe it away with my thumb. It feels like a very domestic move, and something about that makes me happy.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asks as he presses a kiss to the pad of my thumb.

  “Everything.”

  * * *

  After I win my semi-final game, Jericho picks me up and lifts me into the air, just like he’s done every single time I’ve won since we arrived. It’s part of my new routine for games that I’ll happily continue.

  We eat, and I have a longer break before the final starts tonight, so I go back to studying the players who will be seated at the table with me. Jericho excuses himself to take a phone call, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s my father.

  Instead of being filled with anger and resentment, I’m more curious than anything. Do I want to meet him? Is that even an option I’m willing to entertain?

  I put it out of my mind as I go back to studying, because I don’t want to distract myself from the remaining game standing in my way of victory. I haven’t forgotten about Belevich’s side bet either. If I keep kicking ass, I’m going to walk out of here an even wealthier woman. Maybe Jericho will let me buy dinner then.

  Yes, he’s Jericho again in my head. Which apparently is only a thing when I’m happy and not pissed at him. That’s when he becomes Forge, which sounds just as hard as he can look when he’s acting unreasonable.

  He returns to the room, sliding the phone into the pocket of his charcoal-gray suit pants, and I can’t quite read his guarded expression.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Did you close the deal?”

  He continues toward me and crouches in front of where I’m curled up on the couch. “I’m not being patronizing when I say this, but don’t worry about it right now. Keep your focus where it needs to be. We can talk about everything else tonight.”

  It’s exactly the response I needed, but didn’t know I needed until he said it. Again, I find myself thanking him, and appreciate him even more.

  68

  Forge

  “Are you ready?” I ask from the doorway of the bathroom where she touches up her lipstick, which I know will just end up on my lips or cheek, and I can’t find it in myself to care.

  Actually, if I were pressed, I’d probably say I fucking love it. Because as much as I like marking her for all to see, I love that she’s leaving her mark too.

  I also owe Karas a case of his favorite whiskey. I almost fucked up beyond repair, and he saved my ass with his advice and experience.

  Indy turns to smile at me, her blond hair curling down around her shoulders, and the red on her lips is as bold as the woman wearing it.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I’ve drilled every detail of their play into my head, and now I just want to go crush them and then celebrate with you . . . and the Kraken.” She winks when she refers to my dick with her favorite nickname, and my chest shakes with laughter.

  I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her this happy . . . because it makes me fucking happy too.

  “The Kraken and I agree that sounds like the perfect plan.”

  As she walks toward me, I pull a small box from my pocket that I had Bates fetch over lunch today.

  “In the meantime, this is for you.” I hold it out, and she blinks before looking down at the black velvet.

  “What is it?”

  “A gift.”

  She tilts her head as she looks back up at me. “What kind of gift?”

  “The kind you open.”

  “Smartass,” Indy murmurs before she finally takes it from me and flips open the lid to reveal two tanzanite studs that perfectly match the indigo color of her eyes. She releases a ragged breath, and I hope I didn’t fuck up.

  “Diamonds would’ve been the obvious choice, but I thought you’d like these better.”

  Her lips tremble before they stretch into a smile. “They’re absolutely perfect. How did you know? Because I definitely like them better.”

  I remove the earrings from the cushions holding them in place and hold one out. “Because I’m learning you, and it’s the most fascinating subject I’ve ever studied.” When her hand shakes as she takes the earring from me, I realize I need to lighten the mood. “Not to mention occasionally frustrating, but always fuckable.”

  Her shoulders lift with her burst of laughter as she removes her gold earring and replaces it.

  As soon as Indy’s tanzanite studs are secured, I escort her down to the room where the finals will take place, ignoring my buzzing phone the entire way.

  When we reach the door, Goliath taps my arm. He’s looking down at his phone. “Sir, there’s a call you need to take.”

  “Not now. Nothing is more important than this.”

  Indy turns and smiles at me with a wink. “Take your call, Jericho. Just don’t miss the game. I want you to see me win.”

  69

  India

  With Goliath and Bates tailing me, I walk into the room. Belevich is standing along the perimeter, and I march toward him with my shoulders back, boobs out, and feeling utterly unstoppable.

  “You’ve played well, Mr. Belevich.”

  The Russian casually sips on what I assume is his trademark glass of Beluga Noble vodka. “Not as well as you, Mrs. Forge.” He looks around. “Where did your husband run off to?”

  I lift my hand to one of my new earrings and smile. “He’ll be right back. Don’t worry.”

  “He seems to be your lucky charm. I’d hate for you to lose him now.”

  Something about Belevich’s tone sets alarm bells ringing in my head and a chill skittering down my spine. “What the hell do you mean?”

  The Russian sips again, the gold signet ring on his pinky winking in the light. “Nothing. Just that I hope it works out for you both. But I hope more that I walk away the winner of our bet.”

  A rush of air comes from behind me, and I turn to see four men in black suits who look like they must be private security for another high-roller player file out the door. Goliath follows a short distance behind them, leaving only Bates waiting in the wings for me to finish my chat with Belevich. I search for Jericho, but I don’t see him.

  “Don’t stare at them so closely. You don’t want their attention,” Belevich says in a low voice, and I cut my gaze back to him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Those men that your security is following. He shouldn’t be following them. He should walk the other way.”

  What the fuck is going on? The chills I felt moments ago spread across my skin as Goliath disappears.

  “Who the hell are they?”

  “Bratva. One of them was playing but lost the last round to me.” Bele
vich grunts and looks like he’s proud of that fact.

  “Shouldn’t you be worried about them more than me or Goliath?”

  He tugs down the collar of his starched white shirt just far enough for me to see the outline of a wing tattooed on his neck. That’s when I remember the rumors that have floated around on Ibiza about Belevich’s connections to the Russian mob.

  “Of course not.” His Russian accent thickens. “At least, not over something like this.”

  “Where are they going?” I swallow, trying to stop the tendrils of fear wrapping around me from growing stronger.

  “Probably to drink vodka.” He lifts his glass as though in salute, and I force a paltry smile.

  Is he just fucking with me? Trying to throw me off my game? Of course he is, and I’m fucking falling for it.

  I back away from Belevich with a nod that says I see what the fuck you’re doing and it’s not going to work.

  “I’ll see you at the table, Belevich.”

  “Likewise, Queen Midas.”

  I try to flush out all my uneasy feelings by focusing on my breathing, but they don’t abate completely. Goliath returns to the room, but there’s no sign of Jericho.

  Something’s wrong. But wouldn’t Goliath be with Jericho then? I glance over my shoulder to look at the giant with dreadlocks, but he stays perfectly still, giving me nothing.

  I’m overreacting. Nothing’s wrong. Jericho’s just running late.

  The cards are dealt and I settle into the game, tuning out everything else but the other players.

  70

  India

  I won. I won. I fucking won!

  I jump out of my chair and spin around to rush into Jericho’s arms . . . but he’s not there. Goliath is gone too. Bates sweeps in to grab my chips as everyone crowds around me, cheering and popping bottles of Dom.